


everyone thinks you have a heart of ice

by persephassax



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (mild???), Established Relationship, Evil Space Boyfriends, Forced Marriage, Hutts, M/M, Mind Rape, Mutiny, Not Canon Compliant, Power Bottom Hux, Power Play, Proposals, Tumblr: kyluxsoftkinks, bring me snoke's head on a platter, non con elements, not very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 16:11:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13193715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephassax/pseuds/persephassax
Summary: Snoke informs the General that he will marry a Hutt to secure an alliance between the First Order and the Hutt Crime Syndicate. Neither Hux nor Kylo Ren are happy about it.





	everyone thinks you have a heart of ice

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ASW 561.
> 
> From the [softkyluxkinks prompt](https://softkyluxkinks.tumblr.com/post/168264954745/established-kylux-snoke-decides-that-hux-will) :
>
>> Established Kylux-- Snoke decides that Hux will marry someone politically useful. Kylo decides to bring Snoke's head to Hux on a silver platter, which also serves as a proposal.
> 
> WARNINGS: Kylo Ren is not great about boundaries and uses the Force to try and pull information from Hux. If that kind of violation of trust/breach of boundaries/description of feeling violated in that way is upsetting to you, I recommend clicking the back button. Stay safe, sweeties. 

Hux was standing at attention before the hologram of Supreme Leader Snoke while his voice oozed into the room.

“You are the top General of the First Order. A figurehead, practically the soul of the Order itself. You are the only one I could offer to honor such an agreement.”

Hux was sure that Snoke could tell that he was looking through the hologram rather than at it, after all, the Supreme Leader’s powers extended far beyond what Hux could comfortably imagine. Nevertheless, he managed to suppress the twitch of his lip –an aborted sneer– at the reminder that he was nothing more than a tool, property for Snoke to do with as he pleases. 

“Set course for the neutral planet at the coordinates you were sent. There you will marry the Hutt’s selected clansman and secure our alliance with them. I will be there to oversee the ceremony.”

With that final pronouncement, without waiting for Hux’s nod of assent or understanding (not that anything more than a spine stiffened tilt would be forthcoming), the hologram wavered and disappeared, ending the transmission. 

Hux took a deep breath, centering himself, pulling his composure in tight around him, before he turned on his heel and marched out of the spacious chamber.

He did his best, as he stood at the bridge – taking pleasure in making his presence felt at the helm, enjoying the fearful silence that fell across the officers as they sat at their stations eager for him to overlook them – to put the thought of the impending alliance-forming nuptials aside. However, he was unable to put it from his mind completely. Against his will the image of bulbous, quivering flesh would materialize in his mind’s eye. He would push it away, but it wouldn’t be long before another, of the slimy and wrinkled texture of leathery hide, would assault him. 

When he became aware that he would be unable to exorcise the thoughts completely he took his leave of the bridge and retreated to his office. Once he’d barricaded the door behind himself, he poured a glass of brandy and pulled up the latest batch of reports from the department heads. He forced himself to focus solely on the words he was reading as he examined the various progress reports. 

The liquor tasted sharp and bitter in his mouth and though it warmed his throat it felt heavy and unpleasant in his stomach. Regardless, he poured himself another glass when he finished the first and another when he finished that one. Thus he managed to while away the hours until the end of his shift. 

When Hux stood, he realized that he’d drunk nearly a third of the bottle, and that the ground was unsteady beneath his feet. He felt mildly sick and decided against grabbing something to eat from the mess and instead went straight for his sleeping quarters. He undressed, washed hastily, despite the pounding headache that was building behind his left eye, and immediately got into bed. Unexpectedly, he fell quickly into sleep.

* * *

 

His condition was not much improved the next morning. He had slept badly, plagued by dark dreams that were too hot and too damp to be comfortable, and the brandy had turned into a dry mouth and a hangover. But this was why Hux believed in routine; he pulled his body out of his bed and dressed. He took extra care to ensure that his uniform was crisp, lines severe and perfectly arranged, and avoided his own eyes in the mirror as he combed his hair into place.  To keep his mind occupied, he thought exclusively about his movements and began to make lists of what would be necessary to do over the course of the day.

He oversaw the shift change on the bridge, watching people get up and relishing the quiet shuffle of bodies settling into place. He strangled the cold thought that he was unlikely to keep his place of command if he was being married off to the Hutts for a pathetic alliance. The Hutt criminal empire was fading, and the First Order should be taking over in its place, rather than attempting to build a coalition for whatever measly resources they might have at their disposal. But he was at the service of the Supreme Leader and it was not his position to question the wisdom of the orders he was given, but merely to execute them to the fullest degree of his not insignificant capabilities. 

Eventually, he admitted to himself that the hypnotic stretch of the stars in the viewfield were of no real help to his current predicament and returned to his office and his reports. He made sure to avoid the brandy this time, certain that it would do nothing but serve him ill. 

* * *

 

He had actually managed to sink into the blissful numbness of his regular duties when he heard the door hiss open. 

He looked up, ready to reprimand whomever dared disturb him, but instead was met with the blank, bottomless expression of Kylo Ren’s helmet. Ren took up most of the doorway, cape still billowing from his stride in, and the door hissed again as it closed behind him. He stood there, presumably looking down at Hux, mask hiding his face and cloak ruining the definite edge of his body. Hux eventually raised an eyebrow at him and Ren bent his head forward and brought his hands up to remove the ridiculous thing he wore on his head.

Suddenly it was no longer Lord Ren of the Knights of Ren standing before him, but just Ren, Kylo Ren, with his dark hair and his wet eyes and his wide mouth. His temples were sweaty, and his cheeks flushed from the heat trapped in his helmet. Hux enjoyed the view for a second, letting the quicksilver images of Ren’s face flushed with something else entirely, the sight of those lips spit slick after having been wrapped around his dick, the animalistic fever that would light those eyes up from the inside in moments of passion–be it anger or lust. But the pout that pulled at Ren’s lips brought him out of his reverie.

“Why are we headed towards the outer rim?” Ren asked, his deep baritone gloriously free of the distortion of the vocoder in his helmet.

“We are to meet up with the head of the Hutt crime syndicate,” Hux answered, remembering the hot, humid feeling of his dreams the night before, and keeping his voice carefully blank. “When we reach the agreed upon neutral planet we will be signing a peace treaty.”

Ren pulled a face, the corners of his mouth pressing down, his eyebrows furrowing. While he was no great strategist himself, he had heard Hux’s opinion of the relative advantages (or lack thereof) in alliancing with the Hutts. 

The already automatic disgust at the thought of the upcoming alliance treaty rose in Hux as he thought about it, but he kept his mind carefully clear of the details. Ren stepped closer to the table, his head cocked to the side, a searching look in his eye; it was a look Hux had learned to associate with Ren rifling through his thoughts for whatever information Hux was trying to keep from him. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” and there it was, like clockwork. “Something you’re hiding, even from yourself. I can’t. I can’t get it.”

He was almost adorably confused. Hux knows he was often something of an open book to Ren; too straightforward in his thinking, he telegraphed his intentions and expectations as he thought through his choices. But it seems that in even the short time he’d had to acclimate himself to Snoke’s plan, he was already suppressing the details, banishing the thoughts and separating his consciousness from them to maintain his composure. 

“You need not concern yourself with it,” Hux said, dismissive. He would move them past this. He leaned back in his chair and let his gaze linger on Ren’s moody, expressive features. His face was comical if one looked at it too carefully, his eyes a murky hazel color, his large nose sitting slightly askew on his face, the wide, red, inviting plumpness of his mouth. But framed in silky black hair, it gave him a romantic cast. Hux often found himself thinking that Ren was ill suited to life in the First Order. But his broad shoulders and muscular physique, the sheer physical strength of him, combined with the mysterious, undeniable power of the Force, made him too tantalizing an opportunity to overlook. Hux was familiar with his own weaknesses. What Ren lacked in control and foresight was more than made up for by his capabilities on the battlefield. 

“Well, you certainly seem to have moved on from business, General,” Ren’s voice purred on his title, its lilt pronounced with a dark humor. Hux tore himself from contemplating the figure of the man and met Ren’s eyes, closer now that he was leaning in, his arms two immovable trunks taken root on Hux’s desk. 

“What can I say?” Hux parried. “You’ve been away for nearly a fortnight. A man has needs. If you’d been gone much longer, I might have had to start looking elsewhere.”

Ren immediately lunged closer, a growl rumbling out of his chest, a slight pull dragging Hux up from his indolent pose. It was so easy to rile him, sometimes. 

“Then why don’t we remedy that,” Ren’s voice was dark, the tug of the Force curling around Hux, pulling him up and in, he wouldn’t be surprised if Ren wasn’t entirely conscious of it, letting the Force act as an extension of his will; he wanted Hux, and so he would have him. 

Hux didn’t mind. 

While it was true that Ren had been gone for some time, Hux had lived more than a decade knowing the pleasures of the flesh before Ren had become a regular presence in his bed, and he was more than capable of tending to his own needs. At the moment, however, the thought of Ren’s bulk bearing down on him, the totality of his regard focused solely on trying to take Hux apart, until he was overstimulated and completely absent of any kind of coherent thought, was an appealing escape from the stress of the last two and a half cycles. 

“Well then,” Hux said, standing. “I suggest we take this somewhere more comfortable.”

* * *

 

Ren was pale in the darkness of Hux’s quarters. Under all the layers of billowing black cloth was an impossible stretch of nearly luminescent skin, marred here and there by scars and the occasional mole. He was pushing into Hux’s body with a brutal strength, at a pace that was just slow enough to drive Hux slowly out of his mind. Hux’s back slid up with every thrust in, and Ren pulled him back down by the hips as he drew back, pulling him down onto his cock as he pushed back in. Hux was bent nearly in two, his knees drawn up on either side of Ren’s wide body, one arm threaded under Ren’s own, curved up gripping his shoulder from behind. He would occasionally lose his grip, his hand slick with their combined sweat, and scrabble for purchase on the smooth, muscled expanse of Ren’s back. Ren was bent over him, one huge hand on his waist, the elbow of his other arm pressed deep into the mattress next to Hux’s head, his hand wrapped around the back of Hux’s neck. 

It always surprised Hux when Ren would decide to take him like this: their gazes locked, Ren’s face a mask of focus, his eyes dark in the shadows of his face, boring into Hux’s own. He tried to look away, thrashing against the inexorable pull of Ren’s body against and inside his own, pressing the side of his head down and away from the intensity above and around him, but he couldn’t help but return his own eyes to the abyss of Ren’s gaze.

Eventually, when he was beyond sweaty, everywhere their bodies touched, slick; every bit of skin exposed to the air of the room, chilled; he brought the hand that was gripping Ren’s wrist where he held onto Hux’s waist, to his own cock. It was wet at the tip and he was grateful for the humid air between them and the slide of sweat between his fingers and along his palm as he stroked himself. He let his head fall to the side again.

He let out a choked grunt at the pressure, the relief of the stimulation, and felt the invisible fingers of the Force on his chin, pulling his face back over to meet Ren’s eyes. 

Ren had that mulish set to his mouth, chin jutted out, which didn’t necessarily bode well for Hux, but it seemed - this time - he wouldn’t stop him from seeking his release. 

Hux pulled himself off, aware of the unflattering expression on his face; his jaw slack and his chest heaving as he tried to suck in enough air to keep from asphyxiating. He knew that he wasn’t in any danger of doing so, but everything, every nerve ending and every cell in his body, was electrified, and if he didn’t come in the next minute he was going to die, he just knew it. 

All of a sudden Ren pulled back and pushed in hard, snapping his hips in quick, sharp thrusts. The change made the anticipation rising in the back of Hux’s throat crest in a wave that crashed down and over him rushing from his head through his chest - suddenly he could breathe - through his stomach - his muscles clenching and releasing - shaking through his thighs, making his toes curl, hot come splattering his chest and belly and sliding slick over his fist. Ren let out a low, animalistic noise at the feeling of Hux’s body pulling tight and spasming around him. He brought his hand up from Hux’s waist, pushing up on the back of Hux’s thigh to hold him open, while Hux fell, boneless and unable to control his own shivering muscles, to his side letting Ren take his pleasure in his pliant, uncooperative body.

* * *

 

Hux was curled on his side, knees drawn up slightly, one arm stretched out, hand hanging off the edge of the bed. He stared at his own limp fingers, unable to feel them past the pleasant buzz of his satiated body. Ren was in the fresher and he came back with a towel, wiping at the mess between Hux’s thighs distractedly before climbing back onto the bed and lying on his back. He had one arm pressed against the line of Hux’s back, the other up over his head, forearm resting on his forehead.

It came unbidden to the fore of his thoughts; this was now a precious commodity in limited supply. He could say with no certainty that the Hutt would make use of him in this way, but he was sure that he would no longer be free to have relations for his own pleasure like the ones he shared with Ren. He would be reduced to a piece of property; an object, the living proof of some bond between the First Order and the failing Hutt criminal empire. When he had set himself the task of conquering the Galaxy in the service of the First Order, this is not what he had envisioned for himself. With bitterness, he turned his thoughts away from his usual post-orgasmic fantasies of ruling the Galaxy, side-by-side with the unchallenged might of Kylo Ren and his king-making command of the Force. 

He was startled by the sudden, bruising pressure of Ren’s fingers around his hip. They pulled him over, tossing him down onto his back, where Ren loomed over him, blocking out his sight of the dark room. 

“What, exactly, are the terms of the agreement with the Hutts, General?” 

Hux had never heard this tone from Ren before. It was a low rumble from somewhere deep in his chest. The grip on his hip spoke to easy, ready violence. For the first time, he felt the Force pulling at more than his skin, pressing against his very thoughts, demanding he give up the answers Ren was seeking. 

Hux set his jaw against the intrusion, drawing on whatever strength he had to look down his nose at Ren, despite the impossibility of it, given his position, trying to put up walls and doors and anything he could between Ren’s probe into his thoughts and the truth.

But the pressure in his mind increased, Ren unrelenting in his quest to discover what Hux was hiding. The violation was clear, but Hux could feel the edge of Ren’s will buried within the seeking intention – Ren was certain that the truth that Hux was keeping from him was his to demand, to take and have, but more than that, he was scared; he knew that whatever it was that Hux was trying to hide had the power to take Hux away from him. At the sharp feeling of possession, Hux was again drowned in the feeling of belonging to someone else, being something to be kept or traded or sold, and the sick feeling that overwhelmed him pushed Ren out of his head. 

They stayed like that, glaring at each other, for a minute or more. 

Finally, Hux could stand it no longer – the swirl of Kylo Ren’s fierce eyes, the wet smear of his mouth, the flush in his cheeks – he looked away, until Ren was nothing but a blur at the edge of his vision.

“I have been promised in marriage to a Hutt clansman as part of our treaty with the Hutt syndicate.”

Ren’s hands, one still gripping his hip and the other holding down his bicep, dug into his skin in response. He then abruptly let go, stood up, pulled on his leggings and his shirt, not even bothering to do up the clasp on his cape, and stormed from the room. 

Hux, naked and alone in his bed, clenched his jaw and forced himself to think of nothing at all.

* * *

 

To make up for his absence during the latter half of his scheduled shift, Hux returned to the bridge for the third shift. He checked in with the navigation chief to find out how many more cycles it would be until they reached the neutral planet (not enough). He sent a request for a full equipment report following Kylo Ren’s mission to determine how many work hours would need to be allocated to restore the fleet to working order. The muscles of his thighs were aching from his earlier activities, a constant reminder of the frustration of his predicament. He kept his customary habit of standing at parade arrest, letting the burn build in his quads, the tiredness of his hamstrings forcing himself to focus on his posture rather than the inevitable conclusion of their journey. 

While he was almost certain that Ren had truly vacated his mind when he had pushed him out through the sheer unpleasantness of his psychic landscape, the whole encounter had left him feeling like there was a vice crushing his temples. Eventually, the pain surpassed a manageable, constant, dull ache and every time he moved his eyes he felt a stabbing pain pass vertically through the front of his skull. Defeated by his body, for the second time in as many days, Hux retreated once more to his office.

He allowed himself the luxury of the time it took to brew a cup of tea and returned to the reports he had abandoned earlier, after Ren’s interruption of his scheduled work day. Usually, when Ren crept into his thoughts during waking hours it was either with mild irritation (when he had destroyed something valuable or taken liberties with First Order resources which had not been allocated to him) or with a warmth made up of a combination of lust and something else. Whatever it was that uncoiled somewhere in the vicinity of his diaphragm when he would catch that first glimpse of Kylo Ren’s face when he removed his helmet, it wasn’t different enough from the sick, overfull feeling that possessed him when Ren would decide to look at him, that serious expression on his face, when they fucked. The way Ren had looked at him earlier that day. 

But today the swirl of emotion that invaded his mind along with thoughts of Ren contained a sharp note of anger, emanating from the open wound where he had violated the sanctity of Hux’s mind. In a moment of self-indulgence, Hux let himself think about how exhausted he was, especially when it camr to facing down the endless, demeaning tasks the Supreme Leader had set for him. Of all of them, being saddled with Kylo Ren was the only one that seemed to have lead to anything beneficial. Now, even that was being stripped away; a castle made of sand washed away in an instant by the ocean. 

Hux let his eyes fall shut as he inhaled the hot steam off his tea and took a sip of the slightly bitter liquid. He opened his eyes and set the cup to the side. After all, there were still things to be done.

* * *

 

Hux slept alone that night. The following day was consumed with a minor chemical spill in the engineering department that produced a poisonous gas which killed one crew member, incapacitated a half dozen others, and generally disrupted the smooth running of Hux’s ship. It didn’t impact their estimated arrival at the neutral planet where they would formalize the alliance with the Hutts, but Hux determined it to be worthy enough of his personal oversight. He ordered an investigative report to determine the source of the error which lead to the leak in the first place, and met with the chief engineering officer about the duty roster and whether they should request additional help from one of the other First Order cruisers with which they would rendezvous at their destination. 

The day was full, but otherwise unremarkable, with the possible exception of the complete absence of Kylo Ren’s presence from Hux’s immediate vicinity. It was unusual, when they were both aboard the cruiser, for them to go a full cycle without encountering each other in one capacity or another. Hux wasn’t sure if he was grateful for the absence of the man who had broken through his well established boundaries, or if he missed the familiar prickle of Ren’s presence in the room, lurking like a large bird of prey somewhere outside his field of vision.

* * *

 

Just before third shift, they were nearing planetary orbit. Hux ordered for a shuttle to be prepared to bring him and a few senior officers to the planet’s surface. The cruiser was to remain in orbit and await further orders regarding the command upon completion of the treaty with the Hutts. He was keenly aware that these were likely to be his final actions as General of the First Order, and couldn’t loosen the tension that clawed at his shoulders with the thought. He returned briefly to his quarters where he had prepared a small case with a change of clothes and an incredibly minimal number of personal effects; a rock from the crust of the Starkiller base (sentiment), a pad for receiving communications (practicality), and a small bottle of cologne (indulgence). The rest of his personal effects he left behind. He would either have them brought down later or would no longer have need of them at all. Refusing to linger, he made his way to the shuttle bay. 

Surprisingly, when he reached the shuttle that had been prepared to take him to the surface, his corps of officers were standing together uneasily while Kylo Ren, in full Knight regalia, helmet and all, stood at the entrance to the shuttle, one hand resting unsettlingly on his lightsaber where it was clipped to his belt. Hux let his gaze linger on the black swathed figure as he made his way to the hatch. Ren made no acknowledgement of his attention, merely followed Hux into the shuttle. The officers followed behind him and settled in. All too soon they were flying out of the shuttlebay airlock and making their way to the planet’s surface.

* * *

 

When they arrived on the planet, Hux realized his formal attire was ill-suited to the environment; the landscape was flat and open, huge rock formations scattered across the it, impossible to accurately determine their size or distance because of the otherwise featureless landscape. However, rather than the dry, windy conditions Hux expected, he realized the air was humid and the ground was made up of flat bedrock that was slick with some kind of algae and a loamy dirt that he eventually realized was partially made up of some kind of fungus. The hot, moist air settled against Hux’s face, making his hair limp and his skin bead with sweat. 

They met with the envoys from the Supreme Leader’s cruiser, which was also in orbit around the planet. They informed Hux that the ceremony would not be taking place for another cycle while the Hutts amended the proposed treaty and prepared the ceremony that would be necessary to finalize the allegiance. Kylo Ren swept past Hux without sparing him a glance, commanding one of the envoys to accompany him without uttering a single, audible word. Hux watched his black cape, somehow still able to flare dramatically despite the heavy air, and tried to swallow the bitterness that filled his mouth.

* * *

 

It was pitch dark on the planet when there was a sudden urgent call on the commlink. Hux had been dozing on one of the shuttle seats, awaiting the final word on the treaty and unwilling to get comfortable before he knew the full extent of his fate. 

“General Hux– Gen–rrral Hux!” came a slightly panicked voice over the link. “General Hux your presence is needed on the  _ krrkkkzzz  _ –preme Leader’s ship!”

Hux cut his eyes sharply to the side, but the pale faces of his officers showed nothing but confusion and a few of them even seemed apprehensive. 

“Take us up!” he commanded. The lieutenant who was charged with piloting the shuttle jumped and immediately spun around and started tapping at the controls. The door shut all the way and the airlock engaged, the cabin of the shuttle pressurized. The engines let out an all-mighty roar and Hux imagined that he could hear the fungus that permeated the ground crackle and burn along with the bedrock that was reduced to slag under the fiery pressure of the engines. 

They cleared the atmosphere and were suddenly enveloped in the comforting silence of space, only the light hum of the ship could be heard, and Hux was aware for a brief moment of the sound of people breathing around him. He quickly hailed the Supreme Leader’s ship on the commlink, cleared them for docking, and they made their approach. As he disembarked he noticed that while, for the most part, the docking bay seemed to be operating as usual, there were little pockets, clusters of people gathered together speaking in low tones. It put him on his guard. No one was looking at him, however, which gave him some relief in the moment. It was not about him, yet.

A pair of stormtroops greeted him as he stepped away from the shuttle. They nodded to him and said they were to escort him to the Supreme Leader’s chambers. Hux nodded. He hated to think what more the Supreme Leader could think to ask of him. He had already agreed to the damn treaty marriage, what more did Hux have to give?

* * *

 

The stormtroopers left him at the door to the Supreme Leader’s chambers. Hux ran a hand over his hair, assuring himself that it was still neat, and squared his shoulders, before hitting the button to open the door. 

The Supreme Leader’s chambers were circular and red, although the lights seemed to be malfunctioning. The throne was blanketed in darkness. His footfalls echoed in the room, but Hux tried to avoid appearing tentative. He couldn’t see in the half-light that permeated the room, although, as his eyes adjusted, he finally made out the hulking black shape of Kylo Ren outlined by a murky red emanating from somewhere beyond him. He was not wearing the helmet, and his hair meshed with his cloak to make his form even more indistinct in the darkness. 

Hux dared not proceed more than a meter and a half into the room. He stopped and let the silence ring out where it had been disturbed by his boots hitting the floor. 

“I told Snoke that your marriage would indeed herald the ascension of the First Order,” came Ren’s voice. It seemed to come from everywhere at once as it bounced off the circular walls of the room. Hux could envision the placid expression that would be on Ren’s face, impossible to read, with something waiting to leap out in the corners of his lips and from behind his eyes. 

“I didn’t tell him he’d chosen the wrong betrothed, however,” Ren added. Suddenly, he turned. Hux forced himself to hold his ground. The red light that had given Ren that murky outline was emanating from his lightsaber. He made a motion like he was throwing Hux a ball, underhand. Hux made no effort to catch the misshapen sphere that flew from Ren’s hand. It hit the ground with a dull, wet sound and rolled until it stopped in front of Hux’s freshly shined boots. The Supreme Leader’s slack, grey face stared vacantly up at him from its position on the floor. Hux gave it an experimental push with his foot, watching the head roll back and forth. He stepped over it, and approached Kylo Ren.

“What do you mean, he chose the wrong betrothed?” he asked, voice unexpectedly hoarse.

Ren closed the distance between them in two long strides, lightsaber illuminating the strong lines of his face with its eerie red. He brought one gloved hand up to cup Hux’s cheek. The leather was slightly cool against his skin, but the touch was firm and surprisingly gentle.

“You and I will bring glory to the First Order and rule the Galaxy,” Ren whispered. His eyes sought Hux’s and when they caught each other, Hux felt Kylo Ren in his mind once more. This time there was no push, no pain, instead a tendril of thought was profered like a flower about to bloom. Hux let the feeling seep into his mind and was caught in a swirl of images, visions like his own fantasies, the two of them, General Hux and Lord Kylo Ren, ruling the Galaxy side-by-side. Power and order, perfectly aligned. 

Without brushing the image aside Hux leaned in and fit his mouth to Kylo’s. He bit at his mouth, demanding entrance, and at the instant where those plush lips parted beneath his, he plunged his tongue in, staking his own claim. 

Kylo met him with equal fervor, the red light of the lightsaber disappearing and the metal hilt clattering to the floor, his hand instead coming up to pull Hux in closer.

* * *

 

They marched to the bridge. 

“The Supreme Leader is dead, long live the Supreme Leader,” Hux announced, eyes bright with challenge as they looked around the bridge at the crew. A videolink had been set up to broadcast throughout the ship. Kylo Ren entered the bridge, unflinchingly meeting the eyes of the officers sitting stock still at their posts. 

“Fire on the Hutt encampment and their ships,” he commanded, voice deceptively soft. 

Hux smiled at him, feeling a fire kindle to life inside him.

* * *

 

After ensuring that his order would be followed Kylo left the bridge in a swirl of black cloth and Hux spat an order about setting course to the Unknown Regions when the Hutt ships were destroyed, before turning to follow the Supreme Leader (and didn’t that give him a thrill) off the bridge. 

Always two steps ahead in the corridor, Kylo lead them to a room in the senior officers’ quarters. It was bare and clearly unoccupied, the bedsheets with their precise corners undisturbed, which told Hux all he needed to know. The second the door closed, Kylo was pulling at his clothes, stripping them off and leaving them in a heap on the floor. Hux enjoyed the sight of those broad shoulders revealed in all their pale, human glory, but quickly Kylo was nude and glaring at Hux with impatience. He hastily began divested himself of his own clothes, draping them over the back of a chair. The second his shirts were removed, Kylo stepped up behind him, a hot presence along his back. Those big hands curved around his hips and pressed against the soft skin of his stomach, running up his ribs to splay over his pectorals, Kylo thumbing at his nipples, mouth seeking along his neck, until he sucked and bit at the place where his clavicle met his shoulder. Kylo’s hair was surprisingly soft where it settled against Hux’s skin. He quickly undid and shucked his trousers, turning around to meet Kylo, dragging his mouth up into another frantic kiss. 

Without thinking about it, Hux pushed Kylo back, each shove gaining him only a single step backwards from the other man, but eventually Kylo’s calves hit the edge of the bed and with another push at his shoulders he toppled over to splay across the sheets. Hux climbed onto the bed, one knee between Kylo’s thighs, abdomen gently brushing his hard cock as he leaned in. He bit the end of Kylo’s chin, feeling the slight scrape of stubble against his lips and tongue. He followed it quickly with another biting kiss to the soft skin under Kylo’s jaw, moving to the spot behind his ear which got him a low groan of pleasure, moving quickly down the long column of his neck leaving the beginning of proprietary bruises all along the his path. He ran his tongue over the knob of Kylo’s clavicle, where the tendons in his neck stood out strongest and bit down, sucking the blood to the surface of the soft skin, working it between his teeth. Above him, Kylo threw back his head and let out a wounded noise, hips stuttering upwards. 

Unable to resist, Hux wrapped one of his hands around Kylo’s cock, damp at the head, skin soft around the rigid heat at the center. He stroked only as far as the loose skin would let him move, continuing his assault on the pale skin of Kylo’s neck. 

There was a muted thump and then a click and while a warm dry thumb rested at the top of his ass, cold, slick fingers making their way between his buttocks and rubbing at the opening of his arse. They dipped in to him, not going far, just teasing the rim. Hux slid down off the bed, until he was kneeling on the floor. He grabbed the lubricant where it was resting on the bed, spilling on the sheets and slicked up his own fingers. He sat back with his arse resting on his feet and put his own hand back to stretch himself. But he quickly leaned forward, raising himself up, letting his fingers keep up their work, taking Kylo’s dick into his mouth, slicking it up with saliva. The head had a slick saltiness and it tasted of warm, sweaty skin. He bobbed his head and Kylo threaded his fingers through Hux’s hair. Impatient, he pulled back and shoved at Kylo’s knees to get him to move up the bed. He scrambled up and straddled the man’s hips. 

Kylo looked at him with dark eyes, avidly taking in every inch of him that was visible in the dim light of the room. He slicked up Kylo’s dick with the lubricant that dripped onto his palm and held it steady while he kneeled up. He positioned it and himself carefully and slid down. 

Kylo’s expression crumpled as the head of his cock breached Hux’s body. The sight of that helplessness carried Hux through the vague discomfort of his insides stretching to accommodate the breadth of Kylo within him. When he was fully seated he stayed like that, just looking at the feast of flesh spread out beneath him.

Hux braced himself on Kylo’s shoulders and raised himself up and then back down. Kylo’s mouth fell open in a slick, red O. Hux grinned and moved again, with a little twist to his hips, forward on the way up, backward on the way down. He leaned in, pulling his body forward and then pushing backward again. 

He put his mouth to the shell of Kylo’s ear, nipping it and licking away the hurt. He whispered to him all his plans for conquering the Galaxy. Together, as one. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mildly concerned about the fact that the easiest writing voice I've found is Armitage Hux, uptight, committed space fascist. But it is what it is. I debating tagging it "H/C" except that when it ends with glorious visions of galactic domination, I'm pretty sure there isn't any real comfort there. Come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://persephassax.tumblr.com/).


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